


Loan

by MechanicalHeart



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 04:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15833559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechanicalHeart/pseuds/MechanicalHeart
Summary: Lonely? Damaged? Broken?Richard does not mind so much, as long as he is allowed to give his service to Jimmy.Jimmy's gratitude extends to affection and physical intimacy.





	Loan

He may have been shot to pieces in the war but he could still run, and run fast. Looking back at the dark clouds gathering behind him, towering over the horizon and completely devouring the last light of the day, he knew he had to hurry. Doing his best to outrun the wind, he jumped over forgotten sand castles and managed to not trip, not even once, even with one eye missing. Many doctors he had seen, and all of them had said having only half of his sight would severely impact his ability to perceive depth, but so far, he hadn’t had much trouble estimating distances, be it on an uneven beach or to somebody’s skull across a street.   
Coming closer to the familiar and beloved house, he noticed the lights weren’t on. The porch light, which was on for safety purposes, was the only light greeting him, illuminating the rapidly darkening beach. It was all so uninviting, that beach which attracted thousands of people every single day. As soon as the sun is gone, nobody wants to be here any longer than necessary, Richard thought to himself. The ocean looked like a black monster, a death trap devoid of all charm, without the happy summer sun lighting it up, to him. All he wanted to do was be inside. A few hundred yards from the porch, the rain started to come down like a waterfall. It was enough to soak Richard’s jacket but he was at the front door before it could go any further. He had a key in his pocket, but he knocked the door first. It would kill him to upset or frighten anyone in this house.  
Nobody answered. Richard waited politely, but heard nothing. After a minute or so he unlocked the house himself. On other evenings, he would keep the lights switched off, but this night was so dark he had no choice but to turn some on, even though he didn’t like it. He moved quickly, closing all the curtains in every room. Jimmy would have done this much sooner, if he had been here, but in his absence Richard had to protect the home, and himself. When all windows were covered, he switched off the lights again. He didn’t need them. Jimmy had given him a place to stay, in his own home- he called it a room for visitors, but in reality Richard was the only visitor. Jimmy’s mom had a semi-permanent room for herself at the other side of the house. Richard was the other person who practically was a family member. It was just that he didn’t have many possessions, and the room he had been given had no traces of his presence, at all. He had some things in a drawer, but only the top drawer. There was an excess of furniture to accommodate a man like Richard.   
He dropped himself on the bed, realized he had forgotten to take off his wet jacket and did so immediately to keep the sheets dry. The rain rattled on the roof tiles, on and on and on. He took off the mask, put it on the nightstand. He spent a few minutes scratching the itchy parts of his face, just to take the edge off. He laid back, spread his arms and closed his eyes. He wanted no thoughts, no thoughts at all. The trouble with that was that he was able to shut out his thoughts most of the day when he was busy, on his feet, doing things for Jimmy- whatever he asked- but as soon as he slowed down, as soon as he stopped and rested a bit, there they would be again, stopping the flow of the day and confusing him to no end. Thoughts like ‘you should have died back then’ and ‘this extra time was an accident and you shouldn’t be living it’. ‘If only he had shot you when he had the chance,’ he mumbled to himself and pressed his face to a pillow. It wasn’t a big deal at all. He had said the same words so often they didn’t mean much any longer. It was just the way his life was right now. A constant state of wondering why he hadn’t died, why he was here at all. What purpose could he serve, well, other than Jimmy’s business endeavors? 

Jimmy… 

He did not understand Jimmy, did not understand his motives, did not understand his goals. What did he want and how high was he aiming? Richard did not know. Jimmy never told him. He only knew what he had to do each day, which errands he had to run, which men he had to murder. Sometimes he felt like Jimmy’s pet, an extension of himself and his plans. A substitute for him, as he couldn’t be at two places at the same time. It was nice to obey commands. Richard had obeyed so many commands, from men he considered far below Jimmy, it was a mode he seemed stuck in permanently, and besides, he preferred not to think. But he wondered if he was even his friend.   
Jimmy could be so cold. In business, which was a good feature to have, Richard admitted, but also in personal affairs. Just yesterday Richard had watched him with his son and he had looked disappointed and annoyed at the boy’s words, the way he used his utensils, the way he drew a picture, his voice, his movements. He had left the house with Richard in tow.  
“Feels good, right? To stop wasting time,” he had commented.  
“Wasting time?”  
“Yeah,” he gestured behind them. “There’s too much work to do to go along with all of that women’s crap. Children’s crap, as well.”  
Jimmy did not know how much he hurt Richard; he was convinced he had no clue. He was smart enough to understand the effect of his words on Richard, but his family was such a normal and daily gift to him he completely took them for granted. He couldn’t possibly understand how lucky he was. And Richard hated that he could not hate Jimmy for it. Would he have ever met Angela if it hadn’t been for Jimmy? Would he have had this room, of his own, in a house this comfortable, if Jimmy hadn’t noticed him?   
He must have laid there in that same position for at least twenty minutes. He knew because he was starting to think of sleep, a thought his mind only afforded him when he had spent some time in a place it considered very safe. Lately, Jimmy’s and Angela’s house was one of the few places where he felt secure, and even this address had its limits in that regard. Just the fact that people knew Jimmy lived here was enough to have Richard on guard. The most remote shack on the most isolated island would put his mind at ease. Maybe.   
There was a sudden noise in the dark. It was difficult to make out due to the thunder, slowly moving towards the shore, but distinct to Richard. It had come from outside, he gathered, to his relief. It’s probably Jimmy, then, he guessed, and the sound of keys clattering against metal proved him right. Angela and the kid wouldn't be back until Monday. He put his rifle back where he had kept it, right next to his bed, within arm’s reach. He knew it was Jimmy from the sound and pace of his footsteps. It was safe.

“Jimmy,” he said, trying to be loud as to not startle him if he found him within his walls all of a sudden.   
“Richard,” he replied from the hallway. Richard followed his steps as he walked around the house. To the living room, apparently hanging his coat and hat to dry; the bathroom, likely to get a towel for his wet hair; and to the side of the house where Richard´s room was.   
“Hi.”   
“Hello,” Richard answered, bowing his head slightly. Jimmy had been drying his hair with a towel. He put it on the only chair in the room and sat down in it.  
“I didn’t know you were home.”  
“I have been here for half an hour.”  
“Enjoy your day off, as it were?” Jimmy grinned, lighting a cigarette. But he got up from the chair again, complaining about his wet trousers and socks, and disappeared from the room. When he came back he was wearing more casual trousers and was barefoot, but he hadn’t changed out of his jacket. He loved how he looked in it too much. Even now, his eyes wandered to the mirror above the sink. Richard didn’t blame him, but he wished he would realize how his vanity came across to others. Jimmy wasn’t the most self-aware of people when it came to looks. He probably believed anyone could look as great as he did, if they’d just put in a bit of effort. Or a bit more cash. There was a positive side to this, definitely: Jimmy was able to see through people’s appearances and find beauty in some that anyone else would reject in an instant. But beauty distracted him, his own in particular, and Richard understood that rough and hardened men were not generous with respect for vain boys like Jimmy. They weren’t after the shine of gold, but only the monetary value of that gold.   
Richard wished he could warn him, but if he were honest, he had no idea how to explain it in a way that Jimmy would understand. And that wasn’t all- this same trait of Jimmy’s was very dear to him personally and if it were to fade, he knew that their mutual understanding and trust would suffer for it. It was a part of him nobody had been able to spoil. No war, no murder, no betrayal. James Darmody still loved beautiful things. Not only was it one of the few traits he had left that Richard associated with innocence and basic humanity, it was also the trait that had saved him.   
Jimmy fixed his cufflinks, observing the way they caught the faint lamp light.  
“I’m gonna need new ones.”  
“Are you?”   
“Well, yeah, I prefer light blue, anyway.”  
Richard didn’t answer. What was the use? He just needed to be his bodyguard, not his mentor.  
“So, where have you been today? Horse racing? Casino? Vaudeville?” Jimmy chuckled at his suggestions. Richard did not join him.  
“I hope you didn’t stay in all day?” he turned around to face him. “May be pouring now, but it was pretty fair this afternoon. Got pretty warm, even. In the sun.”  
“No, I did not.”  
“So, what did you do, then? Meet anyone special?”  
Richard cleared his throat or at least made an attempt as he decided to tell him. “I checked on you.”  
“Hm?” Jimmy exhaled a cloud of smoke.   
“I checked on you while you were on the boardwalk.”  
This was the first time Jimmy actually saw him over the course of their conversation. “When?”  
“I followed you after you left, about ten minutes later. I… waited… outside when you were in the shops. But… I lost sight of you at the hotel.”  
“Did you deem it necessary? Is there anyone following us?”  
“It was necessary.”  
“So was there someone?”  
“Could be. I did see someone following you. But we have seen this… guy before. Last week.”  
“So did you get him?”  
“Yes.”  
Jimmy looked at him, but he chose not to meet his eyes. “Who did he looked like he worked for?”  
Richard could only shrug; he wasn’t sure.   
“Italian?”  
“He had… dark hair. But he did not… strike me as Italian.”  
“Well, if he didn’t stink of garlic then he probably wasn’t.” He turned around, saw that all precautions for safety had been taken- the curtains, the dimmed lights. “Well, thank you. Once again.”  
Was the rain getting less heavy? It sounded that way.   
“I feel like I’m thanking you on the daily these days.”  
“You pay me,” Richard said.  
“But you were off today.”  
“But there was someone following you. What… was I supposed to do?”  
“I'm sorry, you’re right. I’m just surprised this is in any way normal to you.”  
Richard shrugged. There was nothing to say.   
“I wish I could pay you back. But the coins I give to you are not a compensation, at all.”  
“I have plenty of money. I do not need any more.”  
“I am very grateful, you know.”  
“There's... no need to be grateful. Consider... my remaining... years a loan. To you and your business.”  
Jimmy's eyes widened a bit, but Richard noticed he was trying to keep any emotion off his face and attempting to keep the situation comfortable for Richard. He appreciated it, even though he was not comfortable. He couldn't remember them ever having had a more personal conversation and his heart trembled with fear of Jimmy's reaction to his words. You shouldn't have shared your secrets with him, he yelled at himself, angry, feeling that all was lost. Tender, fragile things, like friendship, could be torn apart so quickly, so ruthlessly, beyond all repair. He, of all people, should have learnt from the past and should have known that his secrets were supposed to remain his and his alone. 

Jimmy smiled, a response Richard had not expected. “There's more to life than business, Richard.”  
“Of course... I know that.”  
Jimmy walked over to the bed. Richard cowered a bit as he sat down right next to him.  
“But you know what I'm talking about.” He made a broad gesture that seemed to encompass his entire house, the beach, the town. Richard already knew what was coming and he dreaded it more than he could say.  
“We'll need to find you a good woman. And I can support you so you can get yourselves a home.”  
“It could... never be as nice as yours.” Richard tried to talk, keep talking, as Jimmy put his arm around his neck.  
“It would be just as nice, I guarantee it. We'll find you a girl who knows her stuff when it comes to decorating.” He grinned at Richard, his face all boyish jest. “Her house as well as herself.”  
It was clear that the thought of finding Richard a lady friend was a source of great amusement to Jimmy, while the subject had never brought Richard any, only pain. Maybe Jimmy could imagine his friend shedding his shyness and deep-seated objections to family life, but he could not. The idea of dragging an innocent woman into his own personal hell, not to mention little children, frightened him so much it left him breathless, with a numbness in his chest, a large, gaping hole where that vision of his future used to be. He knew his life was worthless, and the least he could do was not make it worse for others. How could a man like Jimmy ever comprehend it?  
“What's wrong?” Jimmy asked when he inevitably realized Richard did not share his enthusiasm about a Mrs. Harrow. Richard didn't answer. He couldn't. The distance between their lives was so big it might as well have been the grand canyon, and he wasn't going to try and bridge it, because it would mean an immense sacrifice of time and energy, for nothing, most likely.  
“Are you scared no girl in the world could ever love you? With that face of yours?”  
All of a sudden, the conversation they were having up until that point changed irrevocably, and it was when Jimmy touched his lips. It was a very slight touch, just his index finger, but it startled Richard so much that in a reflex, he slapped Jimmy's hand away.   
“Sorry,” he groaned, cursing himself again, wishing for a quick and painless disappearance from the planet altogether, as apparently that was what it would take to stop himself from doing the last things he wanted. But Jimmy, perhaps understanding the shock he had caused by touching the scars on his face without warning, made sure he moved very slowly and carefully when he did it again. And somewhere above Richard's military instincts and debilitating shame about his face and skin was something, a small part of him, saying he should not stop Jimmy, should not push him away, that he would not hurt him, that this entire situation was, in fact, getting close to all he had ever wanted. He took a deep breath and felt Jimmy's finger on his lower lip, tracing it until he reached the scar tissue, moving back and pushing it a bit as if to test its elasticity. He managed to keep his cringe to a minimum.

“Does this hurt?”  
Richard shook his head, studied Jimmy’s face shyly. He caught a moment of a smile and a spark in his eyes. Jimmy moved in. He kissed him.   
Again, his first impulse was to hit him, to push him away, but he knew that was not what he wanted. He knew that was the war talking and he needed to ignore it, but it took him everything he had to give into Jimmy. The intimacy scared him to his core because he was hyper aware of his own mouth and everything Jimmy’s soft, delicately formed lips would be able to feel of it. The difference between his damaged, burnt skin and the portion that remained intact. The teeth, not covered by any tissue and the source of pure horror whenever he accidentally saw them reflected in a shop window. God I hate my face so much, he thought, repeating it like a prayer, telling himself he was not worthy of this attention, too ugly, too broken. Warning himself that he would taint Jimmy somehow, infect him and injure him the way he was injured. But at the same moment his body acted on its own. His hands reached out to Jimmy, held on to him. He opened his mouth, realizing, after so many years, how hungry he had been. Nobody had ever touched him like this, not once in his life. As a result, his skin felt as if it had been covered in something light, something magical that tickled everywhere. As if he was shivering all over and couldn’t shake it. Not even when Jimmy paused and broke their connection. The feeling of his lips, so new, did not go away.  
Everything scared him, even Jimmy stopping, because he was now on high alert. Why had he let go? Was it something he had done wrong? Richard searched Jimmy's expression for signs of doubt, regret, disgust- emotions he associated with himself and definitely with kissing a face like his- but did not find any of it. He just took off the jacket he had been wearing. It was a real quality piece from expensive fabric, and needlework so expertly done Richard could only admire it. Nevertheless, it made him happy to see it on the back of his chair instead of on Jimmy. He wasn't done, though; he was wearing so many layers lately.   
"It's not comfortable," he said, as if he needed to explain himself when he unbuttoned his vest. Richard cowered a little at the sight of him rolling up his sleeves. 

“Keeping the shoes on, are you?”  
Richard looked at his shoes, puzzled.  
“Take them off.”  
He did as he was told. He quickly understood why his shoes were now on the floor, next to Jimmy's valuable clothes. It was because Jimmy was done with sitting on the side of the bed. He pushed Richard onto the bed, his hands pressing his shoulders to the mattress, and climbed on top of him. Richard's heart was racing; he had no place to go and this was the strange part: he wanted Jimmy to hold him down. He could tell Jimmy was enjoying this and he couldn't remember when he had ever seen him legitimately enjoy something. Apparently his pleasure was making out, and did it even matter to him whether it was with girls, Angela, or with him? The love he had for girls was not lost on Richard- it was painfully obvious what he was thinking about the moment he laid his eyes on one that he liked- but Richard had no idea what he was like with them. And he could tell he was glad Angela was his wife, so how would he explain what was happening now?   
Why did he want to kiss Richard for such a long time? How was it possible he did not want to stop, even as their tongues touched, even as he laid his hand on the bad part of his face? Richard didn't understand him, but he was glad he was at the receiving end of it all. 

“All of this making you hot?”  
Richard didn't know what to say. It was obvious, Jimmy must have already felt it and besides, he wasn't able to hide it wasn’t leaving him any less warm, either. He had trouble believing it in his mind, but his senses did not lie when he felt that distinct hardness to his own when Jimmy pressed his hips against him. He moved his legs between Richard's so he could feel even more of it.   
Never in his life had he expected Jimmy would be this gentle while unbuttoning his shirt for him, would be capable of touching his skin like he did; slowly, carefully, deep in thought, adding pressure at the right moment, in the right spots, waiting for Richard's expression to change, waiting for him to close his one eye and clench his teeth in ecstasy: his reward.   
“You like this,” he commented. He was right. “Hold on.”  
He got up to settle in a better position to get Richard off: right behind him, sitting up, his arms around his waist and his fingers opening his belt, then his buttons.   
He is really going to do this, Richard thought, unable to gather his thoughts. He is going to and I am not going to stop him. And I can’t escape because he is my escape, he is what I think of when I feel this way. I can’t escape. He let his hands wander, did not slap him away when he grabbed his penis and started stroking it, the same way he probably did it himself sometime. It made Richard's heart skip a beat, the vision of his friend touching himself just like he was now touching him, and he knew that whatever happened next, he would hold that vision in his head for the rest of his life and think about it any time he wanted to.   
"Pretend that I'm the person you dream about at night," Jimmy said, his lips so close to Richard's ear he could feel his breath.   
No, Richard said to himself. No, I want it to be you. There is nobody else.   
“There is nobody else,” he whispered, breathless, moving his legs, trying to feel more. Even more. His hips ached in useless attempts to get closer. His naked stomach felt so vulnerable, so unprotected, that he started a bit when Jimmy stroked it softly.   
“Ssh,” he calmed him. “It's okay.”  
It felt so good, it was insane. Richard's head was so full of Jimmy and what he was doing to him that he couldn't think a coherent thought any longer. His hands looked for something to grab hold of, fearing the end and desperately longing for it at the same time. The sheets wouldn't do. Jimmy's legs, Jimmy's arms. Through it all, he felt Jimmy's erection pressing against him, and as his breathing turned into gasps, Jimmy's followed suit.   
“Baby,” he heard him whisper quietly. “Fuck, I love how much you love it.”  
His words made him blush even worse, and it had been bad before. He didn't want Jimmy to see his face now. If only he could reach the light switch, but he couldn't. All he could do was hold on to Jimmy's arms. He let him, even though it had to hurt, as his hands were strong and were clenching with all the force he had in him. The pleasure was so much bigger than his embarrassment, his insecurities, so much bigger than the person he thought he was. He couldn't have been more light-headed- he would have believed he was actually floating. 

His was the most desperate orgasm Jimmy had ever caused. It was, possibly, the most intense he had ever seen. Not that it was loud, or violent, not at all. Richard did not make any noise apart from gasps. Some of them sounded like sobs. A couple of tears rolled down his cheek at the end. Jimmy's slow, final strokes made him shudder. His painful grip on Jimmy's arms loosened, breath after breath, gradually, until he relaxed, leaning against him in complete silence.   
Neither of them spoke, or moved an inch. The thunder was distant, already far away from where they were, and the rain had stopped.  
“Hey,” Jimmy smiled, “Are you falling asleep?”  
Richard looked up, still in a haze, and had trouble focusing. “No.”  
“You are beautiful like this.”  
Richard decided to not speak anymore. He was done with words and he would likely be for the next week. Jimmy passed him more compliments as he got up from the bed to wash himself, told him there was no need to cover himself with the blanket like that, at all, but he had to ignore him or he would lose his mind. He could see his face in the small mirror above the sink, and even the way he was looking at him was an expression of admiration. Richard averted his eye- he couldn’t do it. He stared at the sink as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.  
Jimmy waited for him to get back in the bed. When he regressed into this non-responsive state he went into sometimes, he knew from experience he just had to wait. To make things easier for Richard and give him some space- at least, he hoped it would help- Jimmy turned around in bed to face the wall. After a minute or so, he realized the sounds from the faucet and towels had stopped. He looked around to find Richard standing next to the bed, staring at his feet. It took him a moment before he understood he was waiting for Jimmy to leave.   
“Sorry, man,” he said with a smile, and got up immediately. He would have preferred to stay, but he would not be that person who misunderstood Richard, or just pretended to do so because they knew they could get away with things he didn't like.  
“Let me just get my things. I'll be next door.”  
Richard just nodded, still staring at his feet while Jimmy gathered his clothes in silence. It puzzled him how unaffected he seemed- okay, maybe not unaffected, but so unembarrassed by everything that had just happened. Richard even felt guilty towards every single inanimate object in the room for what they had just been an unwilling part of. But it was worth it, he thought. I think I already want him to do it again. So when Jimmy passed him on his way out, Richard stopped him. He avoided his eyes and pressed his face against his chest. He hoped that if he just held him really tightly, it would express everything he could not say.   
“Or would you like me to stay?”  
“Please,” was the only word in his throat. The effort of its pronunciation was enough to invoke a wave of sadness, rising in his chest until he felt suffocated, like a cruel rebound of the utter devastation he had felt a few minutes ago, back when he had desecrated himself in Jimmy's hand. It seemed to him that was hours ago. The bare skin against his own was more than he could take without fear for his sanity.   
Jimmy was kind. A rarity. Richard figured things were quiet on his side of the town tonight. He led Richard to his bed and laid down next to him. He didn't say a word when Richard switched off the light. Richard enjoyed the anonymity of the darkness, but preferred to hide his face pressed to Jimmy's chest, regardless.   
Until he fell asleep, he spent some time being glad to be alive, glad to be able to hear Jimmy make sweet talk to him as if he were his girlfriend. 

I will protect him until the day I die.

It wasn't an intention. Not a premonition, or a promise. It was fact. 

 

Wednesday August 29, 2018  
14:41

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, this fanfiction is situated between season 2, episode 5, and season 2, episode 6.  
> I was DONE when I watched that scene in which Richard asks Jimmy if he'd fight for him. And that was all it took to wreck my defenses and start shipping them. Even though I disliked Jimmy the moment he appeared on screen in season 1, lmao.   
> I expect to write more of them...


End file.
